Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. Mark hadn't slept properly in days. The job interview hadn't gone well. He was supposed to be a success story, yet he was stuck. He needed a win. He found the letter in a drawer, tucked away in a shoebox. It was from him, years ago, addressed to his estranged father.

He uncrumpled the paper, the thin sheets fragile to the touch. The words were a plea for connection, for acceptance. A plea for a father's love. A wave of heat washed over him. His throat constricted. He hated this feeling.

He tossed the letter aside, pacing the small space. He grabbed a bottle of water, then flung it across the room. He felt the sting in his eyes and wished he could just shut off the noise in his mind.